


General Equivalency

by yaycoffee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-11 00:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaycoffee/pseuds/yaycoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the quote prompt: "You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius."</p>
            </blockquote>





	General Equivalency

The room is overbright with artificial fluorescent light, and Dean takes a deep breath. He hates rooms like this. He stifles a chuckle as he thinks, _Which is exactly why I’m here._ There are six others in the room with him: two chicks so pregnant he wonders how they’ve managed to fit in the provided desks, one dude who is already sleeping, like full-on with snoring and drool, another chick so laden with chains and spikes that she makes noise just _sitting there_ , and two dudes he can only describe as Beavis and Butthead. He wonders if he fits in with them--wonders if he looks like he belongs here.  
  
The proctor is a sad sack of a man, all Sears khakis and short sleved yellow button down, sweat rings already visible under his arms. He monotones, telling the room what they are here for, explains that he’ll be coming by to check everyone’s I.D., and reminds them that they must be using _Number Two_ pencils.  
  
Dean fishes in his wallet for the one that actually says Dean Winchester. The address is bogus, but the rest of it is legit. It hits the laminate top of the desk with a small _snick_ , and Armpits inspects it closely before handing him a thick paper booklet.  
  
He was never much for class itself--with the sitting still and the being quiet and the reproachful looks, but the facts were really no big thing. It was easy to remember the battles of the Civil War when he’d had to hunt down the sons of bitches who were still scaring the crap out of tourists in Virginia. The science of decomposition, the physics of calculating force, running a circuit--this was the stuff he never needed to learn from a textbook.  
  
Six weeks later, the manager of the crappy apartment where they were staying catches him on the way up to their unit and hands him a thick envelope--a quick glance shows that Bobby forwarded it. Had Dad even told him that this was where they were staying?  
  
“Whatcha got there, Dean,” John asks, suspicion seeping into his tone.  
  
“Ah, nothin’,” Dean replies. “Just my G.E.D. results.”  
  
“Well,” John prods. “How did you do?”  
  
With one swift swipe of his index finger, Dean opens it up and reads--numbers break downs and a bell graph and there it is--his score. He knew he’d need a sixty percent to pass, and he expected at least that, but nothing could have prepared him for the number he was actually looking at.  
  
“I passed,” he says.  
  
“I knew you would,” John says, clapping him once on the shoulder. “Bring up the silver from the trunk. We need more ammo.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Dean looked down at the paper again before shoving it into his duffel, and he allows himself a small smile. He may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knows what the ninety-eighth percentile means.

**Author's Note:**

> For the spnquotefic livejournal community, episode "Hookman."


End file.
